Mischief Managed
by Keira7794
Summary: Four boys. Brought together by an old dusty hat. The lifes they lead. The trials they face. The men they become. From their first greeting to their last goodbye.
1. First Year: The Sorting

**Sirius Black:**

The old stool wobbled as I sat down. One wooden leg was shorter than the other two, probably worn down over the hundreds of years of use. I liked that. The idea that for every year since Hogwarts first opened, people just like me have been a part of this decision.

Somewhere amongst those hundreds of thousands of children were the Blacks - and if you were to study them, you'd find most as dark as their name. But if you were to look really hard, beyond the depth of lies and hatred, you may find a few sparks of light that shine out of the darkness.

It was those Blacks that I thought of when the old hat was lowered onto my head. The ones whose names were said in muted whispers, the ones who were burned off the family tree, the ones named simply 'blood traitor'.

My first thought was that it smelt. Really bad. Like a hundred years worth of must; the kind that one would espect to be the home to a nest of moths. Like it had been left in the pouring rain and dried on the fence of a farm. Like yellowing, crumpled paper pressed against your nose. _Gross._

The material scratched against my skin, making me want to itch my head and rip the decaying hat off my head. But I didn't. I stayed still; expressionless. Years of training, of learning how to keep quiet and speak only when spoken to kept me still. Back straight. Chin up. Eyes blank. _That was the Black way._

Yet, curiousity seemed to get the better of me as my grey eyes slid to the woman standing rigidly on my left. She held a scroll in her hand with the new First Year names listed in green ink. Her long wand was clutched in her right hand and her gaze occasionally drifted over the Gryffindor table. McGonagall. Teacher of transfiguration and Head of Gryffindor house.

Bellatrix said she was a Muggle-lover. A half-blood who adored her precious house and dismissed all others. She didn't appreciate the purity of our family – probably didn't even know who the Blacks were. Narcissa disagreed; saying she was fairer than most of the idiots who taught here; she even showed occasional sparks of intelligence. Nothing special.

She knew who we were though - Narcissa had been quite clear about that. Apparently Bellatrix had been 'educating' a first year on blood purity a couple years ago. McGonagall had walked in and lost it.

_Sparks of intelligence,_ I thought to myself, _she sounds pretty intelligent to me._ Of course I'd never mentioned that to them. I knew my duty. The Black heir. I was to marry a fellow pure-blood Slytherin and carry on the blood line. Teaching my children the truth about blood superiority. To have a marriage as happy as those before me; the thought made me feel like heavy rocks had been thrown against my stomach.

It was only Andromeda who had stayed silent. Her brows were furrowed into a frown and her dark eyes glared at the dusty rug. Her shoe knocked against the wooden floor. Andy's sisters' paid her no notice. Her more reserved behaviour had given them the impression that she was somewhat simple. An idiot amongst the deranged.

I've never agreed with them though - Andy had always been my favourite cousin. She was old enough to step in when Cissy went too far, or stand up to Bella if she'd lost it again. Sometimes, on the frequent occurrence of being sent to my room without dinner, she'd sneak in when everyone else was asleep and we'd have a midnight picnic. Not with Regulus, though. He always whined too loud and forgot we were supposed to be quiet. Andy was my closest friend as well as my cousin. After she started Hogwarts, she told me about Mudbloods and how different they were to my parents descriptions -she helped me understand that there were other ways to act.

I found Andromeda amongst the crowd of green and silver, her Head Girl badge pinned to her left. Her dark eyes were anxiously glued to the hat on my head. She was worried about me. We both knew that if I was sorted into Hufflepuff, no one would say it was because I was tupid or lacked magical skill. If I was sorted into Ravenclaw, my family would think I was too smart and therefore would be cut off before I could 'educate' anyone else. I had to be a Slytherin, it was the Black way.

I discretely shook my head in her direction; a little movement that went unseen by most, but was enough to tell her not to worry.

The small movement caught the attention of the Transfiguration Professor who was still stood by my side. Her calculating eyes flickered in my direction. _She had been expecting me to be put in Slytherin immediately. She was wondering if I had the brains to be a Ravenclaw._ Her lips were pursed and she had faint lines around her mouth. I wondered when the last time she smiled was - I wondered what I would have to do to make her smile.

The low mutterings in the hall and the odd screech of moving chairs showed the impatience in the room. I slowly began to realise with a panic that I'd been sat on the stool for a while - much longer than Avery before me. _Shouldn't something of happened by now? Had I done something wrong? Had I missed something? Is that why the Professors on the top table kept sending me questioning glances?_

"No," a deep voice instantly answered, "they are curious as to why I haven't sorted you into Slytherin yet." I had been warned, many times, that the hat would speak - my parents didn't want me to make a fool of the Black name after all. Yet I didn't expect the hat to be this... real. I could almost sense it's amusement as it listened to my inner thoughts. "But you're not a Slytherin. You're loyal – a Hufflepuff, perhaps? But no. I expect great things from you, Sirius Black. It will not be your loyalty that will achieve your future. Your intelligence and wit is a strong possibility. You are intelligent; magic seems to come easier to you than most. But no, you won't reach your potential there either. You are brave, very courageous. Oh yes, indeed. It is clear where you should be, very clear, oh yes. You are a-"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat roared its proclamation into an astounded hall. The deep voice echoing against the stone walls. Silence. A couple gasps. The screech of a bench being moved so the occupants could stand and get a better look. _A Black? A Gryffindor? Had it ever happened before?_

My body sat rigid as if glued to the seat. My eyes were wide and my breath seemed to be lodged within my throat. _What?_ McGonagall had paused in what I expected to be shock, but now stepped closer to me and pulled the hat off my head. Her eyes were bright with surprise.

"Very well, Mr Black." she said shortly. "Go take a seat."

I swallowed loudly and walked towards the Gryffindor table who were beginning to cheer enthusiastically. I passed the boy with the messy raven hair from the train who gave me a thumbs up and a grin. I nodded, a small smile pulling on the edge of my lips. _I'd never even considered Gryffindor._ I strode towards a group of my childhood friends who were also awaiting their sorting. They were huddled together, separating only when I passed them.

"Blood Traitor!" Travers spat.

My steps faltered and I turned to face the only group of boys I'd been allowed to socialise with throughout my childhood. My mouth hung open but my mind was blank for a retort. _What?_ I felt a hand tug on the back of my robes and I was pulled away. I landed with a heavy thump on the bench of my new house.

The hall quietened down as a girl stepped up to be sorted and I took the opportunity to gawp at the large hall. My gaze landed on Andromeda who was frozen with panic; looking like she couldn't decide whether to be extremely happy, sad or scared. Narcissa sat a couple seats down from Andy, her Fifth Year Prefect badge reflecting the candle light - her icy grey eyes flashed coldly in my direction.

It was her glare that reminded me so much of Bellatrix who'd graduated in June. I didn't doubt that if Bella had been present, thinks would have gone very differently. If she couldn't have cursed me herself, she would have demanded a re-sort. It was with a sinking feeling, mixed with relief, that I watched as Cissy pulled a quill from one of her large pockets and started to scrawl on the edge of a napkin. I didn't doubt that Erubus, her owl, would be flying South as soon as the meal was over.

_Oops._

* * *

**Remus Lupin:**

"Lupin, Remus."

The teacher's voice echoed around the Great Hall. There were no gasps of surprise, or muted whispers about my family. Nor were there boos or hisses or even students stretching to get a look at me. Nothing like the dark-haired boy who went up two students ahead. Thank God.

That didn't matter though; I knew that if this room was aware of the truth about me, then it would all be different.

Perhaps some students would leave the tables immediately to write to their parents. Others would find a camera to take a photo as proof, maybe even shouting remarks to see if they could get a reaction on film. Everyone would crowd round me, yet none would come close. They didn't want to catch 'it', you see. After my sorting, they wouldn't share the table with me. The other First Years would decline to sit on the stool after me. The professors would refuse to speak to me, and when they had no choice, their eyes would dart to the side – looking for an escape from the freak. I took a seat on the wonky stool.

Broken, just like me.

The teacher lowered the faded hat onto my head, as she did so, her eyes locked with mine and she gave me a small nod of acknowledgement - almost as if she knew. But she couldn't have known, because she didn't run away. Yet there was something in her gaze, a look of understanding that I couldn't relate.

"What are you?" croaked a low voice.

"Remus." I muttered anxiously. "Remus Lupin."

"I asked _what_, not who."

My back tensed and my throat tightened; even the hat knew I didn't belong. I felt _it_ coming before my vision began to fade.

_We were walking home after an evening of celebrations. It was Bonfire night and I clutched a brown paper bag in one hand which was overfull of chocolate and toffee, in the other hand was a burnt-out sparkler that I had used as a 'wand' - much to my father's entertainment. Around my gap-toothed smile were the sticky remnants from my third toffee apple._

My eyes still shone with the flames from the bonfire as I watched with delight as Guy fell into the flames. My parents were laughing; my dad had a hand resting on my shoulders and my mum leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. I pulled away - to her amusement - so she ruffled my hair instead as the cold wind blew through our scarves. I was telling my parents everything I'd learnt and proudly recited the poem that Mr. Jacobson had taught me beside the flames.

_'Remember, Remember,_  
_The fifth of November._  
_Gunpowder, treason and plot._  
_I see no reason why Gunpowder treason,_  
_Should ever be forgot!'_

_Before I could utter the second verse, my dad tapped our back gate with his wand which sprung open upon touch. Mum giggled as she pulled me into the house, loudly whispering that Dad couldn't function without his wand. Dad heard and pulled my chuckling Mum into a close embrace. I laughed along with them and Mum pulled away to unwrap my scarf and take off my coat._

_"Mummy," I asked, looking at her innocently, "can't I stay up a little longer?"_

_"No, Remus. It's already hours past your bedtime!" Dad scolded gently. "Remember, tonight is a special night – so don't push it!"_

_"Please? Everyone else would be allowed!"_

_"Oh really?" Mum teased, pulling me into a hug. "Remind me Remus, which other five year olds are allowed to stay up this late?" _

_I had no response and instead chose to give them both my best puppy-eyes and pleading face. "Please?" I asked in my most innocent, small voice._

_They looked at each other, chuckling. Mum fluttered her eyeslashes and Dad rolled his eyes to the ceiling in response. "Ten minutes," he sighed._

_"Yey!" I shouted. "I'll go get Mr Snuffles."_

I heard a muffled laugh as my parents embraced once more. I looked around the living room for my familiar bear. "I think I left him in the garden, can I go get him?"

_"Be quick, otherwise you'll miss out on my special Hot Chocolate delight!"_

_I gasped and ran back out the door into the garden. The little garden lights were dotted around the edges, making it easy to see. There was also a full moon in the clear sky which eliminated the garden with a silver glow. I could see Mr Snuffles by the sandbox, beside the spade, and eagerly skipped over to him. Bending down, I heard a growl._

_I stood up slowly, clutching Mr Snuffles to my chest. The garden was empty, and I could see my Dad swirling my Mum round the kitchen to the song on the radio. I giggled and started to skip back across the garden when I heard the growl again; this time much louder and closer._

_I paused once more, and turned towards the strange noise. There was a heavy thump as a great, dark beast leaped down from the shadowed trees. Spit hung from his jaw that was surrounded by dark blood. Its eyes were wild and its tongue eagerly licked its lips. I was frozen, my heart beat loudly like a ticking clock. It pounced before I could let out a cry and I instead screamed in agony as I felt its teeth tear through my skin. _

_The music behind me stopped. My eyes rolled back into my head; enough for me to briefly see my parents frozen with fear, looking out of the kitchen whilst the beast carried on tearing - unaware of their terror._

_"Remus!" My mother screeched, running for the door._

_"Charlotte!" My father shouted. "No!" He ran after her and grabbed her arm whilst slamming the door shut with his foot. Before she could pull away, he reached into his pocket and locked the door. Locking them in. And me out._

_My father was yelling and my mother's screams joined mine as if she was also being torn apart. Both of them were at the window, glued, watching with horror as their only son was ripped to pieces. My father opened the window in a spark of inspiration and shot a red spell at the heavy beast. It roared in retaliation, but wariness of magic seemed to force it to retreat. I lay a bloody mess beside my sandbox and forgotten teddy bear. I couldn't speak, I couldn't move, all I could feel was the pain and slow burning._

_"Charlotte," I heard my dad whisper, his voice thick. "Not yet. It's a full moon." My mother yelped with more pain and I glanced upwards to see her collapse against my father. The burning in my bones felt like it increased. Hotter. Scalding. More pain. How was this possible? My bones felt to be breaking and stretching. My skin was splitting. Pain. In a sudden wave of indescribable agony, I screamed in unbearable pain and instead a howl filled the air._

_I was bigger than before. Wilder. But the pain had left. Left what? What was before? I was nothing. I was wild. I was a creature of the night. I was free. I was hungry .I knew the pain would come back. I knew I would always have to face the pain. I knew everything had changed now. What was I? I knew before the howl left my throat once more._

_Werewolf._

"I said what are you?" the hat repeated.

I thought to my ongoing transformations. Always facing them, never complaining. I thought of the truth I awakened to every morning. I thought of my future, if I would ever have one. I thought of the many who I'd read had turned bad - but then I thought of my parents, and I knew I'd try to be different. To matter. I would do whatever I had to. I would be brave.

"A Gryffindor." I whispered to myself.

"And so you are." The hat responded smugly before it's brim ripped opened once more to announce;

"Gryffindor!"

* * *

**Peter Pettigrew:**

I was still in shock. I barely heard as the stern Proffessor called out, "Pettigrew, Peter." _Was this real?_

The gold plates, the floating candles and the shimmering cutlery. The gleaming white tablecloths, the massive oak doors and the never-ending ceiling. Then there were the people. All different, different hair, different skin, different eyes, different clothes. Wealth shone from them all. Some with thick velvet robes, others with Madam Malkin's finest jet-black uniforms.

I self-consciously patted down my greying robes. We'd found them in a small, second-hand shop which had previosuly been worn by someone at least six foot tall. Dad said they'd be good for 'growing room', unfortunately this made the chance of me tripping up much higher. _Brilliant._

The only positive of such a long hem was that they covered my shoes. My shoes were really my Dad's and they were nice... a long time ago. Now the sole had a habit of flapping open, making a loud clapping noise every time I took a step. Also, they were a couple sizes too big and so the paper I had previously stuffed at the top of the shoe kept slipping out.

Unfortunately, nothing could hide the sound of the slapping shoes against the oak floor; much to the delight of the students whose robes were outlined with green. Smirks were beginning to stretch across their faces. Feeling embarrassed, I hastily sped up my pace, forgetting the too long robes and too large shoes.

With a loud squeak, I felt myself tumbling to the floor. My face burned scarlet as I saw the floor approaching, when suddenly an arm reached out and stopped my flight. I turned; it was the boy behind me with very messy black hair.

"Thanks," I murmured quietly. The boy nodded with a smile on his face and I spun back round to face the front of the Great Hall; very aware that the majority of the students were failing at hiding their grins and sniggers. I was near the front when I passed a white-blonde haired boy, wearing a prefect-badge on his green-trimmed robes; he looked like Christmas had come early as he greedily eyed my clothes.

"Did you see the pig squeal? I'm surprised he could even fit in any robes! Perhaps that's why those robes are too big?" The Prefect drawled to his neighbour. "Merlin, Hogwarts really has gone to the dogs."

His nearby friends spluttered with laughter and pointed at me, jeering over my flaws. The prefect looked smug which soon turned to disgruntlement as he noticed a girl nearby with similarly light hair wasn't giving him any attention. Instead, she carried on hastily writing on a napkin.

I kept my chin high as I walked the last few steps and blinked rapidly – hoping to reduce the burning in my eyes. I sat down apprehensively on the fragile-looking chair. _Please, please don't break. Please, just this once, let things go my way. Don't break. Not now everyone is looking. Please._

I knew I was bigger than most other boys my age but the stool stayed intact as if it had been magically constructed to hold any weight. I looked out at the levitating candles and came to the conclusion that it probably was. I was so focused on the fragile chair that I didn't realise the woman had placed a large hat on my head. It was quite comfy really, didn't itch, and didn't smell too bad either. It reminded me of the clothes I was wearing.

"Peter," a voice echoed inside my head.

No one had mentioned how we got sorted; my Dad forgot to tell me. Just like the rest of the school had.

I yelped and in my shock, became off-balanced and lost my footing. The floor hit my cheek heavily as the stool sprung away from my legs; the Great Hall erupted into laughter and jeers. Some students were pointing, some were snorting, a sparse few attempted to hide their giggles beneath a hand.

The pointed face Prefect chose this moment to get his friends' attention once more. "Did he fall or did the chair break? Merlin I bet the fat piglet has never even done any magic!"

"When I want your opinion, Mr Malfoy, I shall ask for it." Professor McGonagall said sharply over the jeering crowd. She hastily picked up the stool and placed it back on the ground.

"Mr Pettigrew, I would suggest that it would be wise to sit back down now." said the Professor in a much softer voice. I nodded and pulled myself off the ground. Professor McGonagall sighed. "Mr Pettigrew, would you mind fetching the Sorting hat?"

I turned around and saw, with a sinking feeling, that the hat had flown a fair distance and was now on the floor in front of the teacher's table. Red-faced, I quickly padded over and scooped up the hat.

Straightening, I met eyes with an old white-haired wizard with a beard as long as his robes. He had electric blue eyes and a kind smile. "I often have trouble not tripping over it." he whispered, gesturing to his beard. "The trick is to take small, quick steps and not let anyone else guess. That, or cut it I suppose, but I find it such a convenience at times, you see on the occasion where I have lost my way, the end has a tendancy to point me North.'

I didn't know how to respond and simply nodded, feeling the wizard's twinkling eyes follow me back to the old stool. This time I braced myself and attempted to ignore the laughter throughout the hall, the snide remarks and the pitying looks.

"Shall we try that again, boy?" asked the hat's deep voice.

I nodded but stopped immediately as I felt the hat slip forwards. "W-w-what do I do-o?" I asked shakily, not completely sure whether to speak aloud or think in my head and so therefore settled on a low murmur.

"Do?" The hat enquired. "_You_ do nothing. That is my job. You just have to think. I see that you are inquisitive, a skill worthy of a Ravenclaw – however I feel you lack the wit and confidence to fit in well." The hat mused. "No, don't be disappointed, yes I can see your thoughts, you never expected to be a Ravenclaw anyway. No you're not a Hufflepuff either, the house and people would fit you well but sadly you wouldn't fit them at all."

The hat paused and my eyes flickered to the two tables at either side of the hall. "So that leaves Gryffindor and Slytherin. There is a some Gryffindor in you; I can sense your courage and kindness. Oh yes, I sense much courage. You face the bullies with your head held high; you've had a difficult past. You want them to know, to understand - but how far will you go to give them that knowledge? In that sense, you're ambitious and cunning; you hold the ability to be a great Slytherin. Yes, I see it now. A-"

"No!" I interrupted the hat's whispers. "Please, no! They'll kill me! I don't look like them! I don't act like them! Please!"

"Boy, they are your struggles to face. These struggles will make you better for it. Slytherin will make you strong instead of a shadowed man. I see this. I see it all."

"Please; I'm brave. I know I am. Please, just let me enjoy Hogwarts. You've seen my mind, you must know about home. Please, just give me a chance." I begged, my eyes becoming glued on the blonde Prefect. "Please?"

The hat remained silent, and my eyes flicked to the Gryffindor table. I was focused on the only other boy whose clothes didn't look brand new and who had a sense of roughness about him. The boy with brown hair and dark bags under his eyes. Lupin, the Professor had said. Next to him sat a boy as unlike him in looks as was the 'Malfoy' Prefect to me. The boy looked regal and handsome; _if he were my friend then perhaps the Prefect would back off for a while._ "Please?" I asked desperately; feeling my heart beating rapidly.

The hat was silent; pondering and murmering as it searched my mind. Enough time passed for the Prefect to get restless again. "The hat's probably attempting to see if he has any magic in him at all!" Once again, he recieved sniggers from his 'friends'.

The hat's rim ripped open to loudly declare; "Gryffindor."

* * *

**James Potter:**

I couldn't help it; a groan escaped my lips. I was certain he was a Hufflepuff. Then after he shrugged off my arm when I stopped him falling - I was certain he was a Slytherin. _But a Gryffindor? Really? Was my luck really that bad?_

I looked behind me at the shortening queue. There were very few boys left in it. So far Gryffindor had the most male First Years – three already! And we'd only just reached the P's! Ravenclaw had two and so did Hufflepuff. Slytherin, however, had only one male so far. Typical. The odds really weren't in my favour.

I know the hat was supposed to sort you by your own qualities and skills _etc etc but really? Come on, the houses are nearly equal every year! That can't be a coincidence, can it? I'm pretty sure the hat just places randomly so that it can make up the numbers. And if Gryffindor was already meeting its quota, would the hat push me into one of the others. God, what if it makes me a Hufflepuff? I'll never live it down._

I looked up as a girl with dark curls got sorted into Ravenclaw. _It'll be fine. I'll just make an argument that it can't turn down. Gryffindors are... couragous. I'm brave! Like last year, when the biting mushrooms escaped, and the big green one went straight for little Annie – a Muggle child who always had a snotty nose – I was the only one who went to save her. Of course, no one else could actually see the mushrooms and I did end up pushing her into the river by mistake... but I still saved her!_

Well, until Dad had to intervene when it turned out she couldn't swim and didn't pop back up to the surface. But that wasn't my fault! I understand a three year old wouldn't be the best of swimmers, and she might now be afraid of water, but Dad saved her, that's all that matters, right? Perhaps I won't tell the hat that specific story.

Cheers fill the hall as Ralph Pirker got sorted into Slytherin. _Gryffindors are... daring. Well, you need daring to be good at Quidditch, right? I'm great at Quidditch - like that time I played Quidditch against the Hopper family. It was supposed to be a friendly game between family friends. But Jack had just come back from his Second Year, and he was on the Quidditch team. I just wanted to show him that I was good too._

I didn't mean for him to end up in St Mungo's. Honest. He was meant to dive whilst I dodged! How was I supposed to know that he was now dodging whilst I was now diving? I know he mentioned it a couple times, but it was unlikely to work anyway. Most people call me 'spirited'. I don't know where they get that impression from.

"Potter, James."

The Slytherin's chants and jeers fell silent. It was my turn now. _Don't panic, James. There must be something. The stool is getting closer... Think!_

I've got it - I'm smart! In Summer I beat everyone else in Wizard's Chess. I even beat Jack! Of course, I did move the odd piece when my opponent wasn't looking, but only Dad noticed and he played down all of their suspicions. No, not that one either. The hat would probably sort me into Slytherin.

_I wouldn't know what or how to tell Dad. I'm a Potter and every Potter is a Gryffindor. I couldn't be the one to break the mould – could I? Dad was a Gryffindor, he was top of his class in everything – except for Transfiguration, he always struggled with that one. He's still a bit bitter._

But when he left, he became one of the most respected Aurors in the country. If he hadn't retired when he did, I bet he would have been made Minister for Magic. Yeah, Dad's good like that. They expect me to be the same, they all do. I'm Charlus' son, Charlus Potter's boy. 'I must be so proud; I must want to be just like him when I grow up. Oh look, there's Charlus's boy he's doing well in chess isn't he? I bet Charlus taught him everything he knows!'

Sometimes I just want to snap back that I'd learnt it myself, thank you very much! Not that Dad wouldn't of taught me, but he was always a little busy you see. I do love my Dad, I do. Sometimes I just wish they'd notice me first.

See, I've got to be a Gryffindor. If I'm anything else, then he beats me. Everyone knows Gryffindor is the best house; I've got to be the best. I felt a surge of panic as I reached the rotten stool. _Couldn't they buy a new one?_ The stern Professor looked at me expectantly. _Don't panic James! Just be nice and polite, make an argument that you really are a-_

"Gryffindor!"

_What? But – I mean- the hat didn't even touch my head did it?_ I looked up and saw the thin-lipped Professor looking a little startled. The hat seemed to have only grazed my untameable hair. _Well, that was easy wasn't it?_

I always knew the hat sorted people into the houses where they belong. Nothing to do with quotas or anything like that, nope just the good ol' hat.

With an impish grin, I jumped off the chair and strode to my table. My fellow house mates cheering their newest addition - except one red-haired girl who was slowly clapping but her gaze was stuck onto the greasy-haired boy who was a couple in the queue behind me.

_I'm sorry, but that's a little rude isn't it? I am in her house now, probably the quickest sorting since like, ever. Shouldn't she at least look at me? Or at least a quick smile? It's just plain rude not to!_

Yet her bright green eyes were furrowed, creating small lines against her pale skin, not noticing the glares I was shooting her from my side of the table.

_Okay, so perhaps I shouldn't have insulted her spotty friend on the train, but really, who wants to be a Slytherin? Speaking of-_

"Alright, mate!" The regal-looking boy with dark hair asked. "James wasn't it? From the train?"

"Yeah, Sirius Black, right? Merlin, a Black who's not a Slytherin! Never thought I'd see the day!"

The regal boy's eyes narrowed for a second and he glanced at some girl on another table, before turning back to me and bursting out laughing.

"Yeah, and a Potter who's a Gryffindor – you couldn't have bet on that!' Sirius teased; his eyes alight with mirth.

"I bet the odds were astronomical!" I joked back. "I'm James, James Potter." I announced to the rest of the First Years I was sat with.

"I'm Remus, Remus Lupin." A tall boy said, who looked slightly tense and had dark bags under his eyes.

"And I-I'm Peter Pettigrew," whispered the plump blond boy whose face was still tinged slightly pink.

"Oh yeah, right, you're the one who fell over. Twice." I noticed, causing Sirius to snort into his Pumpkin juice.

"Yeah." Peter replied quietly, his face already starting to glow red.

"Well I bet most people will forget by morning." I said simply, hoping his colour would go back to normal. _I don't want to get in trouble for giving the boy a heart-attack or something._ "How about you?'" I asked the girls opposite us.

"I'm Mary, Mary McDonald," replied a small, petite girl with mousy-brown hair and a face of freckles.

"Amelia Bones," announced a blonde-haired girl who had a smile on her face but her eyes were watching us all with a calculating expression.

"I'm Lily Evans," whispered the fire-headed girl reluctantly; who now appeared to be attempting to end the conversation so she could watch her _'friend'_ be sorted, "and we've met before." She added, noticing Sirius and I sat opposite her.

Eventually the sorting ended, Lily's friend was sorted into Slytherin - I smirked a little - and food magically appeared on the golden trays in front of us. Peter's mouth gaped open, Lily's eyes widened, Amelia's smile seemed to finally reach her eyes, Remus was looking round at the other students to see if we were allowed to eat and Sirius – well, Sirius looked bored. There was really no other way to describe it. Catching my eye, he winked and gestured to the food and then to the boy from the train who was enthusiastically talking to the Slytherin Prefect. I nodded, a grin already formed.

We both grabbed a handful of the nearest food as if it has been previously planned and flung our arms forwards. I swapped a satisfied smile with Sirius as we heard the squelch as the gooey food hit its target. The hook-nosed first year, and the pointed-face Prefect looked murderous as they were covered in yellowing potato.

"Mr Black, Mr Potter." The stern-faced Professor seemed to have appeared out of mid-air. "Would you be so kind to see me after the meal?"

"Why Professor, we've only just met." I replied cheekily; earning us admiring looks from most of the table.

The Professor's eyes flashed coldly. "Out. Now."

I looked around the table as I stood up to recieve my first punishment. I caught Sirius' eye and we shared a mischievous grin. I knew instinctively it wouldn't be my last.

_Welcome to Gryffindor, First Years. It's going to be fun._

* * *

Firstly, thank you so much for reading this chapter and I hope you continue to enjoy the rest of the story. My plan is to follow all three boys until their eventual deaths. If you have a spare second to leave a review, it would mean so much. I hope you enjoy the next chapters and the Marauders instinct for mischief.

Keira :)  
P.S. I'm not J.K Rowling - so everything you recognise belongs to her


	2. First Year: Settling In

**Sirius:**

The female prefect walked ahead as she led the First Years to the Gryffindor common room. Her hair swished as she walked and her laugh echoed in the hallway as she responded to Mary's question. Yet, every so often she quickly glanced back to the male prefect who'd briefly introduced himself as Crouch. His hair was perfectly groomed with his dark hair was gelled neatly to the side. His glasses were perched on the top of his nose whilst his eyes seemed to be permanently narrowed.

I watched, intrigued, as he scowled at everything other than the female prefect - his eyes roamed over her as if she didn't exist. James hit me on the arm and gestured towards Crouch who'd shown a moment of weakness and glanced at the female. I grinned and James wiggled his eyebrows.

"Is she your girlfriend?" I inquired innocently, my voice echoing slightly in the old corridor.

Crouch flinched and his eyes darted to the girl ahead; she seemed to have not heard – or at least was attempting to pretend she hadn't. "No," he said stoutly.

James coughed and looked at the prefect with a large grin. "Do you wish she was though?"

Crouch's face burned red and the female prefect seemed to pause in answering Amelia's question. "No," he choked.

I couldn't help myself - I was high on the excitment of Hogwarts. "Sounds like denial to me, eh James?"

Jaes grinned, his hazel eyes shining with mischief. "Sure does Sirius, maybe he's confused. Have you asked her out?"

"No," the prefect gritted teeth, "not that it's any of _your_business."

"Then why are you blushing?" I asked curiously, tilting my head to the side. "Did you used to go out?'

"No."

"Wait, Sirius. Maybe he _did_ask her out," James pondered, "but she turned him down?"

"Yeah, that'd make sense. Why did she turn you down?'"I asked.

The prefect's blush seemed to have reached his neck and his hands slowly screwed into fists. Yet, he refrained from answering and instead sniffed loudly.

"Were you best friends?" James continued.

"Or were you just a distant stalker?" I added helpfully.

"Did you speak to her a lot?"

"Were you friends with her friends?"

"Did you even know her at all?"

"Enough!" Crouch snarled. "Enough!" His hands shook with one fist curled around his wand. "When I want to be questioned on my love life, I'll ask for it. But I certainly don't appreciate some cocky first years trying to gain some credit in front of their peers by embarrassing me! Haven't you already made a nuisance of yourself enough tonight? Professor McGonagall has already given you both a warning! No! Don't smile at that! It is not an achievement to be proud of!" The prefect glared at the grins James and I were giving each other. "We are nearly at the common room, do you think you have the self-preservation to stay quiet until we get there?"

Silence followed his words and Crouch nodded with an air of superiority. The female prefect sped up her pace whilst the red head, Lily, scowled in our direction. The Bones girl rolled her eyes, Mary smirked at the prefect, and Remus and chubs- Peter - were both glancing at us; trying to hide their grins. The silence ticked on, until suddenly;

"So are you going to ask her out again?" James asked.

"ARGH! FOR THE LAST TIME I-"

"Mr Crouch, I believe there will be an explanation for you screeching like a bumbling banshee, when you should be leading these first years to their rooms?" Professor McGonagall inquired, appearing from the shadows and coming to a stand by a painting of a monk playing the trumpet.

"I-these-brats-boys will not be quiet and follow my orders." Crouch stuttered. "We would have arrived at the common room a while ago if these two would stop asking inappropriate questions!' he replied haughtily.

The professor's eyes narrowed as she observed James and me with a calculating expression. "Mr Black, Mr Potter, I would've thought after receiving a warning earlier this evening you would have seen fit to behave in the proper manner." Her spectacles flashed dangerously. "As you appear to have not taken that warning seriously and have delayed the rest of your housemates from reaching their common room - I believe that you will be seeing me after your classes tomorrow for your first detentions. A record, I'm sure." Professor McGonagall added dryly before pausing. "Mr Crouch, Miss Williams - if there are any further incidents then don't hesitate to inform me. I expect to see you at breakfast tomorrow to hand out the new timetables."

The Prefects nodded hastily and hurried us along the corridor; Crouch giving both James and me a pointless poke in the shoulders to speed us up. James looked like he was about to continue when we abruptly stopped in front of a painting of a rather large lady.

"Where on Earth have you been? Most students returned a while ago." The slightly obese woman frowned, her painted eyes roaming over the crowd. "Password?"

"Godric." Williams answered. The big woman nodded and the portrait swung forward to reveal a large circle opening. "Well, go on," the prefect gestured towards to hole.

One-by-one we all slowly clamoured through the entrance. I managed to catch James' eye as Peter went through - _it was a slight tight fit._Smirking, I climbed in afterwards.

The first thing that I noticed was the red and gold covering every surface. There was a large fireplace on the right wall that was surrounded by some ruby seats and a comfy-looking sofa. Dark, wooden tables were placed sparingly around the room with stacks of scarlet and gold cushions stacked beside them. Tapestries hung from every wall and two staircases led in different directions on each side of the back wall. The room itself felt like a welcoming fire; protruding heat and light.

It felt homely, yet a distant cry from the House of Black. Immediately I envisioned my house; the dark corridors, the menacing portraits, the elf heads nailed to the wall and the serpant coating on every item._Kreacher and his looks of loathing. My cousins and their strict rules. My parents._I swallowed loudly.

_What will they say? Will Mum take me out of Hogwarts? Will they not let me home in the holidays? Will Dad even notice? What will they say to Regulus? What will Bella do?_

The thoughts bounced round my head; blocking out the Prefects' welcoming speech. Before I could fully come to, I was pushed up one of the staircases towards the dormitory; the girls going to the right stairs whilst we climbed the left.

I shook my head in an attempt to focus on my surroundings and immediately saw James winking in my direction. He turned back around to face the common room; full of older students talking to their friends.

"Hey, Crouch, you didn't answer! Are you going to ask Williams out or are you scared she'll turn you down,_again_?" James inquired loudly.

Crouch's face turned a deep beetroot colour and the common room erupted into laughter.

"BED NOW!" Crouch roared.

* * *

**Remus:**

I lifted the trunk lid to find some pyjamas, desperately attempting to ignore the feeling that had been in the pit of my stomach since we arrived in our room.

I felt _bad_; I had stood on those stairs and _laughed_with everyone else at the poor Prefect's discomfort. I knew what it was like to be the outsider. To be made a fool of, for everyone else to know that you were different.

Yet, I'd laughed. All because I wanted to fit in. I felt really bad - yet noone else seemed to mind. Sirius had snorted and clapped James on his back for his quick wit, whilst Peter had squealed with laughter and turned red when he struggled to breathe.

The girls had already gone to their dorm; except for Lily who was still making her way up the stairs and responded by sending James and Sirius a withering glare. _And I laughed._

I felt really bad. Ashamed. _I'll apologise in the morning,_ I decided, _perhaps James and Sirius will as well. Maybe they feel as bad as I do_. However, I soon became slightly doubtful, as they both pulled out their wands and proceeded to have a Muggle sword fight whilst Peter clapped along enthusiastically. _Brilliant._

Giggling, they both fell to the floor in defeat. Sirius having pulled on a pair of dark green pyjamas which looked expensive; James wore a similar pair, except in red.

Momentarily, I felt self-conscious in my torn, grey pyjamas which were a little short on the leg – there was no point buying new ones when they would probably be destroyed by the following month - however this moment passed when I saw Peter shyly pull on his.

They were _different_. His trousers were extremely long and were rolled up at the bottom; patches had been sewn over most of the gaping holes - yet some were still on show. His top was yellow and much too small; his stomach looked like it had a tendency to hang out where the material couldn't reach and its arms looked like they were cutting off his blood circulation.

He turned back round; his chin raised defiantly whilst he lowered his eyes and bit his lip. When I didn't say anything, Peter hesitantly raised his eyes and caught my own. I smiled reassuringly and he slightly smiled back.

Thankfully neither James nor Sirius laughed - instead both choosing to stare.

"What do you reckon your detention will be?" I asked quickly; hoping to distract them from Peter. Fortunately, it worked and they both turned to face me instead. Peter sighed in relief.

"I don't know," James answered. "I doubt it'll be anything _too_ bad – we're First Years and _technically_school hasn't started yet. My dad got detention once; he said that he just did stuff like tending to the Herbology plants. But, then again, we haven't done Herbology yet - so they won't make us do that."

"Yeah, Bella did that once but she said she had more detentions with _some bumbling oaf who wouldn't be able to find his way out of a maze with a map._" Sirius mimicked a high-pitched girl's voice with some distain. "I think he's the gamekeeper - so maybe it'll be something with the animals?"

"Well something like that'd be fun." James replied, "It better not be really dull like _cleaning_or writing lines." James rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, before closing it abruptly and turning to face Sirius again. "Did you say Bella? As in Bellatrix Black?"

Peter gasped dramatically and even my eyes widened. _Bellatrix Black's name had been in the Daily Prophet a lot recently. It was a name that the adults said whilst shaking their heads and rolling their eyes._

She'd only left Hogwarts in the previous year and had already used her family's contacts in an attempt to make Muggle-hunting legal, to make sure no muggle-borns could play Quidditch professionally and had reportedly started to turn to dark magic.

Most of the rumours had been hidden by my parents; not that I'd have taken much notice - my nerves of starting school seemed to have made my transformations more painful and my wolf-form was becoming more distressed; meaning I was taking longer to recover.

Sirius glared at the floor for a moment before slowly nodding. "She's my cousin. But- I – I mean, I'm not like her. I'm not much like any of them. I-I-' Sirius stuttered before closing is mouth; looking too uncomfortable to carry on. I pitied him slightly; I knew what it's like to want to hide a part of you. Peter seemed to feel the same and looked away to find inspiration for a different topic.

James, however, was frowning at Sirius, and in turn Sirius was glancing apprehensively back at him. James bit his lip and his eyes scanned over Sirius' pyjamas. "Does that mean – do you know much about the_rumours_?" Sirius actually looked to physically deflate and smiled in relief, James tilted his head and continued. "My parents won't tell me much. They keep saying it'll work out – so do you know much? About that wizard, Voldemort?"

I frowned; the name was familiar but I couldn't place it. Peter looked like he was trying to remember where he heard of it, as well.

"Not much." He paused, noticing James' disbelieving expression. "My family didn't tell me much either incase I repeated anything when I came here." Sirius snorted and pushed his dark hair away from his eyes as he realised that he was doing exactly that.

"But, yeah, that's his name – or at least what he's calling himself. You must of heard the rumours about what he's been saying? About the mud-ggleborns? From what I understand, he's trying to find followers and I think the ministry's a bit worried about it; don't really know why." Sirius shrugged, his eyes distant and a small line appeared between his brows. "He's just another wizard off his rocker. He'll pass, just like the others."

James nodded slowly, "I thought it'd be something like that." There was silence for a short moment whilst we all pulled out our clothes for tomorrow. James obviously preferred noise and turned back to face us with a grin on his face. "Did you see that greasy haired kid's face when he got hit? What was his name again?"

Sirius sniggered quietly. "Yeah! Perfect aim - if I do say so myself! Erm, Spiverness, wasn't it?"

"No, that's not right. Wasn't it Snivellus?"

"That sounds right," Sirius agreed. "Are you going to try out for the Quidditch team next year? I can't believe we have to wait a whole year!"

"I don't know - I've never flown a broom before,' I replied. "Don't we get lessons?"

"You've never flown before?" James looked gobsmacked. "But – you're not a Muggle-born - are you?"

"Nope, Half-blood." I smiled at James' and Sirius' looks of complete confusion. "My parents just didn't think it was that important." _Compared to turning into a werewolf._

James shrugged in disbelief whilst Sirius turned to Peter. "What about you, Peter?"

"Erm - I used to," he replied meekly. "I haven't flown in about four years though. My parents couldn-uh-are too busy."

"Oh." Sirius responded; unsure at how Peter suddenly lunged towards his trunk and started burrowing. "Well-"

The door slammed, interrupting Sirius, and revealed Crouch. He was stood in the doorway with his wand out, looking murderous.

"Why in Godric's name are you still awake? Light's out was nearly an hour ago and your continuous mutterings are keeping us all up!" However, I noted, the corridor outside was silent with the odd interruption of a snore. "Get to bed, now, before McGonagall hears of this." Crouch snarled threateningly.

Peter yelped and dove into bed. I also headed towards my bed; trying to make up for my behaviour previously that evening. James looked like he was about to argue but Sirius nudged him and rolled his eyes. James grinned and they both reluctantly pulled the curtains around their beds.

The door slammed again; announcing Crouch's exit and I turned under my covers to face the window; overhearing James and Sirius' muted conversation. A slither of the moon was shining in the sky. _6 days_, the moon seemed to shout, _you have 6 days_. I sighed, it didn't matter how hard I tried to fit in, I couldn't escape the wolf.

_6 days._

* * *

**Peter:**

I'd been awake since dawn, just lying in bed, thinking. My cheeks were cool to the touch, but they burned with embarrassment from within; James and Sirius had brand-new pyjamas that seemed to scream wealth. Remus' were normal though he looked like he'd recently had a growth spurt. And then there was me.

I was wearing a top my mum had made me when I was 8; she had brought new material and spent weeks learning how to sew; I didn't have the heart to tell her I hated the colour yellow. So I wore it for her and she beamed every time she saw me wearing it. When I grew too large for it, she still grinned. When I started to stretch the seams, her eyes still lit up. And after the accident, I couldn't throw it away. My trousers were rolled up several times at the bottom of each leg; they belonged to my Dad. He always seemed more giant than man to my younger self. I, well, I didn't exactly get the height gene.

Stupidly, I decided to bring those pyjamas with me for familiarity. It was only when I started pulling on my too-small yellow top, clearly handmade, and too big trousers that had been covered with patches of yellow material to cover the holes, that I realised how tatty they really looked. I'd never minded until I turned to see the others, and all I could think was why didn't I throw them away? Remus smiled,_ was it out of amusement? Or worse, pity?_

I shook my head and caught sight of Sirius beginning to wake from the corner of my eye. It was an amusing sight, he sat bolt upright with a groan. "I'm up, I'm up!" Yet when no one responded he opened his eyes a fraction; his face furrowed in confusion. Sirius coughed with embarassment with the sudden realisation that he was at Hogwarts and discretely slid out of bed.

James seemed to sense movement around him and loudly groaned; signalling that he was awake. James' eyes flicked open and a beam slowly stretched across his face; looking the image of excitement. Remus, however, was dead to the world. Sirius looked at James and then to me; his eyes had a hint of mischief.

Sirius reached over to James' bedside table and grabbed his alarm clock. Keeping low, Sirius muttered at the clock with his wand in his other hand, whilst sneaking closer to Remus' bed. Sirius tapped the clock another time and quickly set it on Remus' pillow before slowly retreating back. Thirty seconds later, the alarm went off.

A loud shrill horn bounced around the walls of the rooms and a sleeping Remus leapt into the air, his eyes wide with fear and a yell escaping his lips.

Remus' hair was stuck in all directions, his breathing coming out in heavy pants and his arms raised in defence. James laughed first, before Sirius joined him and then me. Our laughs echoing round the room whilst a moody Remus glared at us, before eventually seeing the funny side and his lips twisted into a smile.

Crouch, it appeared did not see the funny side, as Sirius didn't know the counter-curse to stop the wailing, it continued to echo, forcing a very angry prefect to storm into our room.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Crouch's eyes froze with horror as he glared at us all. "It's quarter to eight! You should all be dressed! Argh! Silencio!" The prefect screamed at the clock and the screeching immediately fell into silence. "Get. Dressed. Now." Crouch seethed.

His ears and neck burned red as his glasses flashed dangerously; he still clutched a wand in one hand which was emitting small red sparks. Deciding that the safest option would be to follow his orders, the four of us leapt into action. Just minutes later, we had all hastily dressed and were being frog-marched to breakfast.

I was nervous; I'd dressed at such a speed that I hadn't had time to stuff more paper at the top of my hand-me-down shoes and groaned as I felt myself slipping out of them. Remus shot me a sympathetic glance whilst James simply looked confused.

"Oi, Narcissa!" The blonde prefect, Malfoy, yelled down his table. "Looks like your cousin's got a new pet; part pig, part porcupine!"

Evidently, my hair had rebelled in the night and was now sticking up in all directions. My cheeks burned and my eyes began to itch at the unwelcome attention; seeing this made Malfoy laugh harder with the inclusion of his close friends.

I turned and started to walk towards those in red and gold rimmed robes. Yet none of the others moved and I swivelled my head to see Remus, James and Sirius glaring at the Slytherin table with great distaste. I felt a small smile tug at my lips as I recognised the mischievous glint back in Sirius' eyes. Crouch, seeing this, put a hand on Sirius' shoulder and led him towards the Gryffindor table.

"Stay." Crouch ordered sternly, though he eyed Malfoy with open disgust. "Just eat and collect your timetables. Don't give McGonagall any more reason to dock our points before term has really started. Okay?" He glared at each of us until we all nodded in agreement; James and Sirius albeit slightly more reluctant.

The Gryffindor table was full of food, the tables seemed to creak and groan under the weight of the full dishes. Each dish contained a certain type of food. And every table contained hundreds of different dishes. There was every type of food imaginable; bacon, muffins, eggs, toast, croissants, bagels, cereal, porridge and much more. Additionally, on each side of every tray were two glass jugs decorated with a golden boar head, full to the brim of different types of juice.

Sirius and James both raised their eyebrows in amused surprise before shrugging and settling on the nearest bench. Remus looked as overwhelmed as I did, but catching my eye, he gestured to the table and we joined the two dark-haired boys whose heads were bent together with muted whispers whilst sending the occasional glare to the Slytherin table.

The vast amount of food available was overwhelming; I couldn't choose what to eat first and ended up grabbing everything and anything close, almost fearful it would disappear at any moment. Once my plate was bulging with a bit of everything, I looked up to see that the others were just eating a slice of toast or a bowl of cereal. My plate seemed to beckon my eyes and I felt a motion of shame sweep through my body.

There was a loud guffafle and I fearfully dragged my eyes to look at the green-rimmed table. Malfoy was pointing to me, laughing. Some of the other First Years who were sat near him were standing on their chairs to see how much I had piled onto my plate.

I felt the sudden urge to be sick and nibbled on a slice of dry toast, found underneath all the piled bacon and beans. I blinked furiously and was extremely grateful when the food disappeared minutes later; signifying the end of breakfast.

* * *

**James:**

Professor McGonagall was slowly making her way up the table; handing out timetables as she passed each year group. One girl looked close to tears as McGonagall handed her timetable to her with a shake of the head.

_Why would you be upset? Just cause you can't do a subject. Really? If she wanted to do it that bad, then why didn't she just learn the stuff before her last exam? Stupid._

"-and then we'll pull and he'll go flying." Sirius whispered excitedly, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"What?" I shook my head, turning to face my new roommate.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Where've you been?" He gestured to Malfoy. "Anyone who goes soppy every time they look at Cissy needs their head checked. I suggest we simply help him find the hospital wing."

Sirius grinned innocently and I found myself grinning back. _I know mum said to behave, but why is it so hard? Plus Malfoy keeps making the tubb-Peter go red, which is pretty embarrassing._

I snorted. "Right I'm in! What's your plan?"

"Something simple that they can't blame us for. Crouch is right; we don't want to lose Gryffindor any more points. Nothing that would harm him seriously either, otherwise Cissy would write home so fast I'd-" Sirius trailed off into silence, and looked up to the ceiling with his brows furrowing into a frown.

I waited for him to continue but he seemed to have forgotten that I was sat next to him. There was a sharp cough to my left and I looked up to see the stern professor looking standing over us with one eyebrow arched.

"Hello," I said innocently.

She sighed and handed me a piece of paper. "Your timetable, Mr Potter. And yours, Messers Black, Lupin and Pettigrew. I see your first class is Charms with the Slytherins." Her lips pursed as she looked at each of us carefully. "I better not hear of any misconduct or your detentions tonight will be extended. Is that clear?"

"Clear as crystal Professor, but if I do say so myself there's no need to sound so-" _OW!_ Remus kicked me under the table. _Hard._ I glared at him and he responded by shaking his head slightly. _Oh, right, we're trying to not dock any points. I forgot._

The professor seemed to sense this and her eyes narrowed. "For your detention you shall meet me outside these doors at 5pm. No later." Her eyes flickered to Sirius. "You as well Mr Black."

Sirius' timetable remained untouched on the table. He was still looking to the ceiling and frowning; McGonagall's face seemed to soften slightly. "Mr Black, have you received a-?"

"No, not yet." he replied sharply. Yet, almost like an unheard signal had echoed through the building, the sky was suddenly full of birds carrying packages of items that had been left at home. There was a loud hoot and a large, black eagle owl flew through the windows and dropped a sealed envelope into Sirius' open palms.

He stared at the thick, ivory letter facing him, his eyes still furrowed. Sirius swallowed, grabbed the letter by its edges and pocketed the envelope like nothing had happened. Sirius smiled at the Professer innocently, but the mischievous glint was back in his eye. McGonagall seemed to sense this. "Perhaps you'll meet me fifteen minutes earlier, Mr Black?"

He sighed dramatically but nodded slowly so the Professor moved away. _What in Merlin's name was that about?_Sirius pushed off from the table. "Well? Are you coming?"

I nodded and climbed off the bench, Remus and Peter following close behind. We reached the massive oak door at the same time as the Slytherins, and Sirius, obviously trying to keep his mind off a certain topic, gestured me towards a metal stand with rope looped around the hook.

"Releshio," Sirius whispered. At once the rope came undone from the stand and fell to the floor. Peter gasped in amazement and clapped his hands in excitement. Not to be outdone, I remembered a spell my Dad used to get the snotty Muggle girl out of the water after I _accidently_pushed her in.

"Extenshio!" The rope slithered along the floor, remarkably resembling a snake, and reached the other side of the door – just as Malfoy strut through the hall with his nose held high; meaning he didn't see the moving rope.

I released the spell with a large flourish and the rope popped back together. Malfoy's eyes widened momentarily as his feet got tangled under the thick rope. He struggled with his arms flailing before crashing spectacularly onto the cold floor. There was a satisfying crack; Malfoy looked up to reveal a small puddle of blood on the stone floor that was pouring from his crooked looking nose. His blue eyes were cold and his lips formed a snarl.

Around us, the Slytherins gasped, the Ravenclaws laughed, the Hufflepuffs whispered and the Gryffindors hooted. Many of the older years clapped us on the back as they stepped over the spluttering prefect and headed to their lessons; most looked back with a snort.

Sirius and I swapped astonished gazes; neither of us planned for that to go so well. With a bewildered laugh, we stepped over the Malfoy; who was still tangled within the rope. Behind us, Malfoy let out a shrill shout. "You rotten little-"

"Mr Malfoy, I do not appreciate any kind of foul language in the corridors at Hogwarts. Set an example - you're a prefect!" Professor McGonagall stood over Malfoy as she made the ropes disappear with a flick of her wand. "Five points from Slytherin for aggressive behaviour."

_Thank God we got out of there; she'd have had us in detention for the rest of the week!_I looked at Sirius and Remus who both looked like they were thinking along the same lines.

We'd just reached the classroom when the red-haired girl from the day before stepped in my way. "I hope you're not going to do that often," she rolled her eyes at our innocent expressions. "I saw you, so don't try to deny it. Class hasn't even started yet, and you've already got a detention. I don't want Gryffindor to come last; so you better buck up your ideas!"

"What's it to you?" Sirius replied furiously. "Go join your slimeball pal in Slytherin if it's that much a deal!"

The greasy-haired boy approached us, his black eyes flashing angrily. "Don't you dare speak to Lily like that!"

"Sev, leave it. They're not worth getting in trouble for." Lily sighed, tugging him away.

He followed Lily immediately but glanced back over his shoulder maliciously, "-wouldn't expect anything different from a Black anyway."

Sirius' eyes widened and he stepped forward, his neck burning red. Remus reached an arm around Sirius' shoulders to pull him back, Peter squeaked and cowered against the wall, and I raised my wand.

"Pardon me for lateness," a squeak came through the gathering crowd.

A small wizard who was clutching his sides, pushed through the gathering of children. His eyebrows lifted as he took in the situation with Sirius and I pointing our wands in the Slytherin's direction.

"We don't tolerate magic in the corridors boys." The small Professor squeaked. "You were told this last night. Five points from Gryffindor."

The red-head sighed and scowled in their direction. Somehow I knew McGonagall would be hearing about this. _Brilliant._


	3. First Year: Secrets and Punishments

**Sirius:**

It was the last hour of the day when James stabbed me. A gasp escaped my mouth as the blood seeped to the break in my skin and I cursed myself for paying attention to Professor McGonagall. Turning, James grinned impishly, holding his weapon at his side whilst I glared at him and wiped away the blood.

James laughed and spun back round to face McGonagall who frequently sent suspicious glances in our direction. Narrowing my eyes, I glanced down at the matchstick in my palm. Two could play at this game. My parents had been training Regulus and I since we were able to walk.

For a moment, my mind was full of images of Regulus and I growing up in the cold, dark house of Black. The house always had people visiting. My family were the _'purest of all wizards'_which, according to my mother, made us the wizarding equivalent of royalty.

We used to wake up for lectures on blood superiority. There had been a massive decrease in wizarding purity in recent years and even the wealthiest pure-blood families would seek solace at our house. In the evenings, we were paraded to all in our finest robes, like princes. We represented the hope of the next generation.

Some demanded more than a glance at the wealthy princes; they wanted to see us perform magic. Day after day we were taught spells and potions, and punished harshly if we got anything wrong. My father would watch our lessons like a hawk, waiting for any mistake. The smell of fire whiskey would cling to his robes as his dark eyes remained unblinking.

We had no breaks, learning magic was our goal. In summer, the thick curtains would be drawn so we wouldn't be distracted by the warm light. We were to be the best. We were to save the wizarding world from the threat of mudbloods and Muggles. Once I asked my father why we were superior. He had no answer. But he had a punishment.

My cousins would join us often; they were our only company. We were of royal blood - we should be the best. With nothing else to do, insanity seemed to spread from my father's blood-shot eyes to Bella's. We all noticed the change, yet no one said anything. That was our future. We had to accept it.

The pure-bloods wanted an heir. An heir who was superior. They didn't want to know how that heir became so wonderful. My tenth birthday was an initiation. The pure-bloods came in number to watch me prove myself. I was one of their last chances; I had to prove I was brave enough.

I was in the dining room, a plank of wood lay on the table in front of me. My father reached down into a dirt covered sack by his feet and pulled out the rotting head of Beastie; the old house-elf who had gotten too old. I had heard a shallow gasp from behind me; Kreacher had entered the room.

Father pushed the head into my arms, and held it there as I attempted to recoil. Uncle Cygnus stepped forward with a fist full of broken twigs. I knew how I was supposed to prove myself.

As much as I hated myself to admit it, I liked the looks of admiration that the guests gave me, the presents, the whispers of my future. I swallowed and gathered my courage.

My stomach had sunk and my throat became tight as Kreacher, the house-elf, watched my hands like a hawk as I lifted his mother's head to the plank of wood.

"Nervano." I had whispered. Nothing happened; some of the guests coughed uncomfortably.

"Nervano." I repeated. Nothing happened again; my father's hands twisted in agitation.

"Nervano." My stomach tensed as there was no reaction once more; Andy gasped and Bella snorted.

For a moment, I caught my father's swaying body and my mother's hawk like eyes pierced on my face. Her eyes were narrowed and my hands started to shake. I had time for one last chance, otherwise the punishment would come and it would probably fall upon Reg as well. For my stupidity. I couldn't let that happen.

My back tensed and I spoke the words with as much power as I could muster, "Nervano!" This time, one of the twigs transformed into a nail.

I swallowed, ignoring the joyful feeling that danced in my stomach. "Creyja."

The nail made a sickly crunching noise as it penetrated the elf's flesh and flew into the wall. Behind me, I could hear Kreacher gasp and he started to mutter under his breath. House-elves don't understand death; he didn't understand that my father had killed his mother for being too old. He just saw me nailing his mother to the a plank of wood.

In his eyes, I was the murderer. _There are few things that elves hold grudges for, that was one of them._

The elf's mutterings faded in my ears and I found my eyes still fixated on the matchstick. "Nervano," the matchstick became thinner and longer, the colour fading from brown to silver and the square ends twisting into a sharp point and a flat top. It was identical to the nails from all those years ago. James gaped at my nail, and then looked back at his, which was feeble and small compared to mine.

With a wink, I smiled and pushed away the thoughts of home. "En guarde!" I whispered and hit James' nail with mine, sending it flying across the classroom.

His eyes sparkled mischievously as he pointed his wand at another matchstick. The matchstick transformed into a stronger looking nail; my spell obviously giving James more determination and he picked it up in a swift movement then turned and attacked mine. I swerved and the Muggle sword fight began. If James swayed right, then I'd block him right. If he stirred left, then I'd catch him left. We were evenly matched and our movements became more exaggerated as the game progressed.

James' cry when I stabbed him in his arm caught the attention of Professor McGonagall. She sighed and stormed over to our table; fully expecting to dock Gryffindor points. However when she reached us and saw our nails – James' had become increasingly stronger as his kept breaking – she started in surprise. "Are these your matchsticks boys?" McGonagall frowned.

"Yes Professor," I replied, hoping that if I was polite she wouldn't dock any points.

"How?" McGonagall's brow was still furrowed.

"Well with magic." James obviously didn't share these hopes. "You see there's this place called Hogwarts where they teach it and-" he was silenced by a glare from the professor.

"What I meant Mr Potter," she said through pursed lips, "is that these are both very advanced nails. I would expect a third year to transform a nail to this standard, certainly not a first year."

Her eyes darted between us both and her eyes lingered on mine. "Congratulations boys," she paused. "Five points to Gryffindor for Mr Black's nail."

"What about me?" James responded outraged.

Professor McGonagall didn't even look back as she made her way to the front of the class. "I don't tolerate rudeness Mr Potter, nor do I reward for it. If you want to receive house points, then you earn them."

I snorted at the look of shock that spread across James' features and Remus joined in; his own matchstick already transformed into a small brown nail. Peter however, was still focused on the matchstick in front of him. His wand making jagged, quick movements through the air whilst he muttered the spell, his small eyes never wavering from the object. Repeatedly nothing happened.

His face tinged pink and with an emotion of pity, I saw the Snivellus boy had just transformed his. Peter was one of the last few, and the Slytherins were starting to notice.

"Here," I whispered, "smaller movements, more fluid. Yep like that. Now when the wand moves to this point, you say the spell. Okay? Yep. Now."

With full concentration, Peter muttered the spell and the matchstick started to transform. It shrunk and became very thin; I swapped a despairing glance with James as the matchstick now looked like a tac rather than a nail. However, Peter's eyes shone with excitement and a massive grin covered his chubby cheeks. "I did it!" he whispered in awe.

* * *

**Peter:**

It seemed impossible that a week had passed already. I was currently hiding behind my bed, along with James and Sirius – attempting, unsuccessfully to stifle the giggles that kept escaping the clenched hand over my mouth. James was bright red and sniggering, Sirius was more composed but even he kept snorting and peering over the bed.

I couldn't believe that these boys wanted to be friends with me. That they _were_friends with me. Remus was really friendly, thoughtful and he had already helped me with some homework. I thought Remus and I shared a lot in common; he was shy, wore scruffy clothes and was desperately trying to fit in.

It was just something James and Sirius couldn't understand. Sirius was funny, slightly sensitive when talk turned to home, moody when letters arrived – he still hadn't said anything about the letter he had received on Monday. Yet he was smart, he didn't have any trouble with the lessons and he helped me a lot. On Thursday, he even swapped Potions with me and simply said he'd been _'meaning to get to know the Potions professor a bit better anyway.'_

James was... well, James was spoilt; it was obvious that he was adored at home. Every morning a new package arrived from home; full of sweets, jumpers, stuff from Zonkos and the occasional bit of stationary. He answered back to the teachers and was shocked when they didn't do as he asked.

Once or twice, I felt jealous. I knew that I would never receive the same treatment; my dad was too busy trying to get a job - or keep one - to send letters and packages, and my mum- well, after the _incident_ mum wouldn't-_couldn't_do much. She probably didn't even realise I'd left, perhaps she did – I was her main carer after all.

But James was fun. He shared everything with us all. They were, well they were cool. And they were friends with _me_. Even when the Slytherins kept tripping me up or stuffing cakes into my bag; they all just laughed and shared out the cakes.

But if there was one thing they were really good at, it was making trouble. Sadly for Remus, James had found Sirius, who was just as talented at creating mischief and then me, a willing trouble-maker who the teachers didn't suspect yet, and then there was Remus. The one person who managed to keep some sense of control this week, yet somehow James and Sirius persuaded him to get involved every time.

Sirius nodded at James, and he snuck to the window and opened the blinds causing sunlight to catch on Remus' ruby red bed curtains; Remus groaned as he awoke; realising that there were no sounds of heavy breathing from my bed or faint snores from Sirius' or even low mutterings of James talking in his sleep.

Remus hated getting up and when he slept, nothing could wake him and now he knew _we_were awake.

Already this week Remus had needed two extra showers, help from a prefect to find all his socks and had been forced to beg for the counter-jinx for his singing shoes - all within five days.

Remus looked like he sat up with some trepidation in the silent room before collapsing back onto the bed after finding he couldn't sit up - asif he was glued to his bed sheets. With another groan he pulled his hand out from under the duvet to find his hand covered in sticky yellow goo. _Treacle. _

None of us could contain our glee at the look of disgust on Remus' face, and there was an eruption of giggles from my bed.

"Guys," Remus sighed. At once, us three boys; two with dark raven hair and one with thin blonde, popped out from behind the bed. Red-faced and giggling. Remus glared at us for a moment before joining in laughing as well. "Where did you get the treacle from?" Remus laughed.

"'James' package this morning," Sirius responded cheerfully. Remus' face showed an expression that seemed to say _'of course.'_

"Why treacle?" Remus asked.

"Well we thought you loved your bed so much that you'd want to stick around it," James replied innocently. Sirius shook his head at the bad pun.

Remus snorted. "Well give me a hand then!"

I waddled over with Sirius and James behind me; when suddenly Remus grinned mischievously and with a squelch, ripped his hand from the treacle-covered bed and ruffled Sirius' hair. Sirius screamed and laughingly dived for the bed; pulling me with him.

The resulting thud meant more treacle flew into the air and landed on James' trousers who laughed and dive-bombed on top of Sirius. I was having fun, but at the same time couldn't stop the nagging worry that I was weighing the bed down. Or that I was sitting on someone; stopping them from breathing. But each thought got pushed away as more treacle went flying.

Treacle was everywhere and we all had the one goal to cover the others as much as we could. James' hair was more ruffled then normal and Sirius' eyes were alight with excitement, even Remus looked like he was having fun.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" It was Crouch, again. _Oops._"Really? Treacle? It's Saturday! People are trying to sleep! Who do you think is going to clean up this mess?"

"The house-elves?" James said in a slightly arrogant voice, Sirius nodded in agreement.

Barty Crouch's eyes narrowed. "Professor McGonagall will hear about this. Now go get washed for Merlin's sake- and _don't_get any of that goo on the carpet!" With that, Crouch turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

There was silence for a couple of heartbeats before we all burst out laughing. Remus jumped out of the bed and ripped off the sheets that were still stuck to his body before heading to the showers; for his third additional wash this week.

* * *

**Remus:**

The rest of the day passed in a similar way to how it started. James and Sirius wanted to annoy Barty Crouch more, so took to following him – dragging Peter and myself with them – and constantly asking him questions.

To their joy, they found that he often went red and spoke in incoherent sentences when infuriated and also that he couldn't get them in trouble because they were simply asking him questions, and as he was prefect – it was his duty to listen.

When we were not annoying Crouch, we were exploring. At lunch, Peter accidently squished the pumpkin he was sitting on in the pumpkin patch which meant we all had to run away before the hairy giant of a man caught us.

At dinner we were interrupted from our loud food-fight in which James had hit Amelia with a soufflé that had splattered onto Mary who picked up a Cherry Tart to hit James back, but James ducked and it hit Sirius instead. Sirius then decided to pick up the whole tray of cream puffs and throw them into the air – meaning that we all got covered in cream.

It was war after that, and after a rather spectacular throw from Lily which caused two Pumpkin pastries to splat against James' head, McGonagall approached the table.

Her lips pursed as any food that had hit the floor or tables disappeared along with all the rest of the food which signified the end of dinner. The girls slyly snuck away from the table and got lost within the crowd.

"Not so fast boys," she said sternly. With resignation, we turned back to face the stern-faced teacher who was looking at our food-covered clothing with despair.

"I may not be able to punish you for acting like bumbling buffoons at dinner, as you are all at perfect liberty to cover yourselves in food - but Prefect Crouch has informed me of your 'treacle' experiment with your bed sheets. This sort of behaviour is _not_ tolerated at Hogwarts. After having a discussion with the headmaster, a suitable punishment has been found. Since you have no regards for the rules you will have your _special_detention tomorrow evening. Leave the sheets where they are, and you will deal with them tomorrow. Understood?"

We all nodded but James frowned, "Professor? Remus has got to sleep tonight; we can't keep the sheets on the bed."

Professor McGonagall nodded slowly and then turned to face me. "Which brings me to my next point. I'm sorry Mister Lupin but we've just had news that your Grandmother has been taken ill. Please go see Madam Pomfrey immediately and she will floo you to your house." I nodded in understanding.

James and Sirius frowned and patted me on the shoulder as I left, Peter bit his lip and gazed at me in a mix of understanding and pity.

The professor was still looking at me – though her gaze had softened considerably – and I took my cue to leave. I walked out of the Great Hall and up the first moving staircase when Lily and Amelia bumped into me.

"Remus!" Amelia started.

"Hello," I replied. "You alright?" I added as both girls were swapping looks of guilt.

Lily nodded, "yes, we're fine. But well – we felt a bit bad that we left you guys to get told off. I mean we threw food as much as you guys did. It wasn't fair of us, so we're going to see Professor McGonagall now to explain."

"No don't worry about that!" I smiled. "McGonagall didn't punish us because all the food disappeared anyway."

"Oh," Amelia laughed. "Thank Merlin for that! I was wondering how I could explain to my parents that they'd got a letter when I hadn't even been here a week!"

She giggled, and Lily smiled with her. But soon her smile turned to a slight frown, "are you okay Remus? You don't look too happy and well – you look slightly pale."

_Ah,_ I thought, _I wasn't hiding it that well. Thank Godric for McGonagall's excuse._

"Me? No, I'm fine Lily, thanks. McGonagall's just told me that my Grandmother's ill so I'm just a bit shocked. Though they've arranged for me to go home tonight, so it's alright." I smiled reassuringly and both girls nodded with understanding.

"Oh, well we won't keep you then. See you around Remus." Lily said softly, before following Amelia in the direction of the library. I arrived at the hospital wing in good time and the healer sighed in relief.

"Hello Dear, I'm Madam Pomfrey – you must be Remus?" She spoke softly as if speaking to an ill patient. She gestured to her office and I followed immediately.

Although the wing was empty, she shut the door and cast a spell over it. Then turned to me and smiled once more. _Did she really have to smile so much? Remus, don't be an idiot – she's only trying to help. She's probably disgusted or scared anyway. You'd prefer the smiles over sneers. _

"So Remus, Professor Dumbledore has informed me of your – situation – and has come up with a suitable solution. In about half an hour – just before the sun goes down – we shall walk out to the grounds together. Professor Sproat has planted a tree over a passageway where you will be statying - it'll stop anyone following you at least. I'll leave you there, but you _must_follow the hidden pathway to the room at the end."

I nodded and Madam Pomfrey disappeared back into the hospital wing after hearing someone call for her. With nothing else to do, I sat down and tried to stop myself from thinking about the oncoming pain. The transformations that split my bones and tore my skin. The burning, the screaming – the wildness. No matter how many times I transformed; nothing stopped the fear I felt before every full moon.

It seemed minutes had barely passed before Madam Pomfrey returned; her wand clutched in one hand and an extra cloak in the other.

"Right dear, I think we'd better go down now. Now I'm going to disillusion you, don't panic if it feels strange – it just stops any suspicion if you are seen with me walking across the grounds after hours."

I nodded in agreement and she murmured a spell. I then felt the odd feeling of an egg cracking over my head and slowly sliming down my body. Madam Pomfrey nodded with satisfaction and gestured for me to follow her.

We left the building without arousing any suspicion and stumbled across the grounds before finally reaching a tree of about my height, waving in the breeze. Madam Pomfrey looked over her shoulder and murmured under her breath. An orange spell jetted out of the end of her wand and hit a small knot at the base of the tree. The tree immediately stopped.

"The tree is fast growing and vicious. It will attack anyone who nears its base so no one shall be able to enter the entrance." Relief swept through me, I had worried that I would accidently attack a student or teacher if anyone got curious.

"But, if you hit the knot, it will allow you to pass, so-" she paused and gestured to the tree regretfully. "I'm sorry Remus – I wish there was another way." I nodded and smiled at the witch's kindness. She patted me on the shoulder as I passed, before the entrance closed behind me and I was left in a damp tunnel.

With no light or clocks, I was unsure how much time had passed whilst I stumbled through the dark tunnel. I could only rely on the increasing itch that covered my skin and the increasing sharpness of my surroundings as my eyes altered. After what seemed like much time had passed and the itching was beginning to feel unbearable, I reached a small wooden room with a bed and a chair. Before I could register much more the clouds moved and the full moon hit me in the face.

The familiar burn spread across my skin. And the indescribable pain swept through my head; my body collapsed against the floor and automatically curled in on itself – trying to protect against the pain. Yet there was no remedy, no soothing in the fire.

_I am not normal. I never will be. Remus. I am not normal. I will never be. Rem-. I am not normal. I will never be. R-. I am not normal. I never will be. Wer-. I am not normal. I never will be. Werewolf._

I am wild. I am free. I am the night sky. I am the creature of the night. I am wolf.

* * *

**James:**

I was chasing Sirius. He had tripped me up a couple corridors ago and I'd fallen into a suit of armour. Peter could be heard breathing heavily behind me somewhere – gasping to keep up. Sirius ran faster than us all as he shot round the last corridor. I pulled out my wand and nearly ran head-first into him as he stood still as a statue in the centre of the hallway. I caught myself in time – but sadly Peter didn't and he ended up running straight into me, who then fell on top of Sirius. For the third time this weekend, we were in a huddle on the floor.

Sirius groaned with pain as he pushed Peter's knee away from his chest and I pushed Sirius' elbow away from my face. With a couple scrapes we managed to detangle ourselves and crawled away from the huddle – only to come face to face with McGonagall. _Brilliant. Detention. Forgot. Oops. _

Her lips we're pursed as she watched us scramble to our feet. "You are fifteen minutes late for your detention. I do not tolerate poor conduct. You will stay for an extra half-hour today. Is that clear?"

We nodded our agreement and she moved to the side slightly to reveal Remus. He'd been gone since yesterday afternoon, but being back so soon _must mean his grandma's okay. Unless McGonagall brought him back for his detention – and that's just mean!_I looked at McGonagall once more and decided that I wouldn't put it past her.

Remus nodded at us with a slightly strained smile and McGonagall flashed a concerned look at him quickly. I noted that he was very pale, and had dark circles under both of his eyes. He seemed to be slightly hunched over and his clothes seemed more scruffy than usual – Peter looked at him in concern.

Sirius was frowning at the small cut above his left eyebrow and the scratches over his arm where the flesh was in eye-sight, before taking a step towards Remus, then shaking his head as if changing his mind. _Hope he hasn't caught his Grandma's illness_, I thought.

"Follow me boys." Professor McGonagall said sharply – interrupting me planning my next prank on the distracted Sirius. We followed in silence, Peter and I exchanging looks of curiosity – we were going down some stairs behind a painting of a dwarf fighting a dragon which was just left to the Great Hall.

Sirius and Remus walked side by side behind us. Sirius sending the occasional look at Remus whilst Remus stared ahead, walking slower than the rest of us as if he was tired.

We were in a small hallway; a painting of a bowl of fruit was to our right. We carried on walking, past a group of old barrels in the corner which had a cactus sat on top of the biggest one. We took a left, then a right, then another left – yet McGonagall carried on walking. Until at last the Professor halted by a small wooden door in the brick wall which was only as high as our chests.

The small door creaked open and an old house-elf, wearing the Hogwarts crest on its grey garment, slipped through the door. It's eyes were unusually large and the elf squeaked as it bowed to McGonagall – who pursued her lips and nodded in response. _A house-elf? Hah! We can just ask it to do whatever the punishment is and just sit and watch! Brilliant._

But Professor McGonagall seemed to have seen my quickly disguised smile, "this is Dokkin, boys. He shall be overseeing your detention today and has sworn to tell me if you misbehave in any way. Clear?"

_That's not fair! If the elf's sworn to the Professor – then we have to do it ourselves. But – I mean – that's just stupid! _

Her eyes met each of ours in turn and everyone nodded, yet her eyes seemed to watch me more carefully than the rest as I nodded in resignation.

"Dokkin wonders if the misters want to follow me?" the elf squeaked. We nodded; Sirius and I swapped a smile as we each crawled through the small door. But the smiles soon faded as we straightened up into what seemed to be the Hogwarts laundry room.

As stupid as it sounds, I felt my jaw drop. _Hogwarts has a laundry room?_

I'd known that we just put our dirty washing in the yellow bin by the door, and then the following morning they were folded in our trunks. I suppose it made sense that the house-elves cleaned them, but I'd just accepted it as magic. _Huh. _

My shock was mirrored on Sirius' face whilst Peter nodded to himself as if confirming a thought – Remus had no reaction – he seemed too tired to notice anything. _Maybe he didn't get much sleep last night?_

The roof curved into a dome and was supported by eight marble pillars that were evenly scattered around the circular room. Candles floated between each pillar – giving the room a warm yellow glow.

We were currently stood on a platform which had three wooden steps to the side. The steps led to a small wooden bridge, which stretched over a streaming pool of water. The water spun round the dome room in a circular wooden tub, going right round the room continuously. Yet the water wasn't calm, it was full of white school shirts which kept appearing over the pink and green bubbles, whilst being scrubbed by floating brushes. Every couple of metres was a dolly that was levitating over the water and in sync they would dip in and help push the water round the room.

Over the bridge were three giant platforms, which were centre to the water that rushed round them. On the first platform were two giant rocks with an elf standing by each one, at first they seemed pointless but after a loud whistle echoed round the room, a group of elves hurried to a long red lever on the far wall and pulled it towards them. With a sucking sound, all of the white school shirts were sucked from the water and landed in baskets placed by the rocks. One by one the shirts flew towards the rocks, and the elves standing beside them waved their arms like a conductor. The shirts started to slap against the rocks and I realised with a jolt that the water was being beaten out of the shirts.

With another wail, the third platform which was covered in a mound of jumpers and trousers sank into the water below, and the stream was full of coloured washing instead. Old-fashioned washboards jumped out of a cupboard and attacked the washing.

Once the shirts were beaten dry, they floated into another basket and were transported to the second platform. This platform was the busiest as it had around twenty house-elves stood by a hundred ironing boards, with a wave of their arms; each iron lifted off the board and attacked the shirt with speed, ironing out every crease.

The shirts then folded in on themselves and landed neatly in a labelled basket. Behind these baskets were four doors, each labelled _'Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor'_. Four more house-elves stood by these doors, watching a board of lights, when a light flashed green; a house-elf squealed and grabbed a basket.

Dokkin seemed to notice my gaze and gestured towards the lights. "A good house-elf is not seen by their masters," he said simply. It became clear what the light were then, the lights flashed green when a student left the dorm room, telling the house-elves that the room was clear for them to put away the washing.

Dokkin gestured for us to follow him down the stairs and over the bridge to a small platform that was hidden behind the rocks. On it was a small tub of water with some brushes, a washboard and a dolly – all perfectly still.

My stomach seemed to sink as another house-elf stumbled over to our group - which was attracting a lot of looks - in her arms was Remus' sheets – still covered in the treacle from the prank the previous morning.

"Professors McGonagall says you boys must clean every stain off the sheets without magic to learn respect for the elves that clean them," Dokkin squeaked. Then his ears bent, "Dokkin doesn't mind cleaning sheets. Dokkin happy to clean but Dokkin must follow orders."

The small elf seemed miserable as he gestured for the other elf to hand us the sheets and with a snap of his fingers, four three-legged stools appeared around the wooden tub.

_Oh. Brilliant._

* * *

**A/N: Hello again :) So what did you think? Hogwarts laundry room? Is it what you imagined?**  
**  
Once again, I'm still not J.K. Rowling - so everything you recognise belongs to her, anything you don't, to me :)**


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